Christ risen from the dead with the Good Thief about to enter Paradise, showing the cross to the flaming cherubim guarding the gates, as his “admission ticket.”
“Today,
you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the chalice with the self-examination,
the reorientation of our lives, the words of the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ
makes the same promise to us: Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you
will begin to live forever.
What does that even mean, that we will be “with him in paradise,” that we “will live forever?” We sometimes think that eternal life is just like the life we know now… but rather than walking around on earth for some finite period, we will be walking around paradise for “an eternity,” that time will simply be stretched out and stretched out and simply go on much like it does now on earth but without ever having an end in sight.
But eternity—the “forever” of the Kingdom of God—is not simply a very long time that simply never stops. “Eternity” and “eternal life” is simply always NOW. There is no time—not long, not short, not never-ending—just NOW and its quality is as different from what we currently experience as life in the womb differs from life after we are born. It’s impossible for us to understand what eternity and paradise are like just as it is impossible for a baby in the womb to know what to expect when it emerges out into the world.
An icon of Christ as celebrant of the Eucharist, with the four evangelists and four bishops—SS. John Chrysostom, Basil the Great, James of Jerusalem, Gregory the Great—credited with composing the four Eucharistic services of the Orthodox Church; the Holy Gifts on the altar; the anaphora on Low Sunday; the elevation at Low Mass during Easter Week; the hospitality of Abraham hosting the three angels, a “type” of the Eucharist.
One of things that scared those who denied Christ’s presence in the Eucharist was that if true—if Christ is really and truly present somehow in the Eucharistic bread and wine—then how could anyone dare to receive it? How could anyone of us dare to stretch out their hands or open their mouths unless they were as pure as the angels themselves?
Taking St. Paul’s admonition seriously, without discerning the body—without adequate self-examination and preparation to receive the Eucharist—a person would be eating and drinking judgement on themselves. And the people who denied that Christ is present in the Eucharist weren’t wrong to be frightened. It is an awesome thing to dare to reach out and touch—much less, consume!—the bread of the Eucharist if it truly is Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ.
But St. Paul didn’t say the Corinthians had to be pure or sinless. He said they had to be worthy. Worthiness is a very different thing. To be worthy to touch, to be worthy to consume the Body of Christ does not mean to be sinless. As several English theologians in the 1600s and 1700s pointed out, to be worthy is to be committed to self-examination, committed to repentance, committed to always turning around, changing direction, re-orienting myself towards Christ.
So I must always prepare to approach the Table by examining myself, reviewing what I have done and who I have been during the time since I last approached the Holy Table. Examine myself, measure myself against our standard—which is Christ—and determine how I might, in perhaps some single small way, turn my back on that person that I do not want to be and take some small step closer to being the person I was made to be in Christ.
To be worthy of receiving Holy Communion, to dare to touch the Corpus Christi, I must be committed to self-examination and repentance. One of those English theologians, Simon Patrick[1] in 1660, suggested using a phrase from the Gospel that Greek and Russian Christians use as they approach the chalice: “Lord, remember me when you come in your kingdom.”
The thief crucified with Christ acknowledged Jesus as Lord and reoriented his life—turning his back on his image of himself as a victim who was owed whatever he could take from other people—and he asked Jesus to make a place for him in the Kingdom. What was Jesus’ answer? “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the chalice with the self-examination, the reorientation of our lives, the words of the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ makes the same promise to us: Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you will begin to live forever.
[1]
Bishop of Ely, Mensa Mystica, or a Discourse concerning the Sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper. (Prayer Book Spirituality, p. 283)
On the left, a Russian bishop prepares the one Bread and one Cup, adequate for a large number of communicants, who will all receive from the same loaf and chalice. On the right, a priest places the “fermentum” in the chalice, signifying the unity of the Eucharist which he celebrates with the Eucharist which the bishop celebrates elsewhere that day.
Judge what I say. The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not communion in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not communion in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread we, the many, are one body, for we all share in one and the same bread. (1 Cor. 10:15-17)
Because the parish in Corinth–wealthy members, poor members, Gentile Christians, Jewish Christians, the “weak”, the “strong”–all partake of the one bread and the one cup at the Eucharist, they are one body. One fellowship. One community united in faith against the temptations and allurement of the fallen world. Although many, they are one–manifesting and revealing the Kingdom of God to all those willing to look and see.
That chalice, or rather, what the chalice holds, consecrated by the word of God, is the blood of Christ. Through these elements the Lord wished to entrust to us his body and the blood which he poured out for the remission of sins. If you have received worthily, you are what you have received.
St, Augustine of Hippo, Easter Sermon
St. Augustine reminds his congregation of what St. Paul told the Corinthians: they must partake of the bread and cup worthily. If they do not partake in a worthy manner, the Holy Gifts will destroy them rather than enliven them.
But St. Paul
didn’t say the Corinthians had to be pure or sinless. He said they had to be
worthy. Worthiness is a very different thing. To be worthy to touch, to be
worthy to consume the Body of Christ does not mean to be sinless. As several
English theologians in the 1600s and 1700s pointed out, to be worthy is to be committed
to self-examination, committed to repentance, committed to always turning
around, changing direction, re-orienting myself towards Christ. So I must always
prepare to approach the Table by examining myself, reviewing what I have done
and who I have been during the time since I last approached the Holy Table.
Examine myself, measure myself against our standard—which is Christ—and determine
how I might, in perhaps some single small way, turn my back on that person that
I do not want to be and take some small step closer to being the person I was
made to be in Christ.
To
be worthy of receiving Holy Communion, to dare to touch the Corpus Christi,
I must be committed to self-examination and repentance. One of those English
theologians, Simon Patrick[1] in 1660, suggested using a
phrase from the Gospel that Greek and Russian Christians use as they approach
the chalice: “Lord, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” The thief crucified
with Christ acknowledged Jesus as Lord and reoriented his life—turning his back
on his image of himself as a victim who was owed whatever he could take from
other people—and he asked Jesus to make a place for him in the Kingdom. What
was Jesus’ answer? “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the
chalice with the self-examination, the reorientation of our lives, the words of
the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ makes the same promise to us:
Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you will begin to live forever.
[1]
Bishop of Ely, Mensa Mystica, or a Discourse concerning the Sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper. (Prayer Book Spirituality, p. 283)
